Anti-Heroes and Angels
by AgeyoQueensUKCan
Summary: "You shouldn't make people into heroes John. They don't exist. And if they did, I wouldn't be one of them. I've already told you before." This short one chapter story takes place after the "Reichenbach Fall" Final episode in Season 2 of BBC's Sherlock.


Anti-Heroes and Angels

"You shouldn't make people into heroes John. They don't exist. And if they did, I wouldn't be one of them. I've already told you before."

"You're a hero Sherlock."

Arguing. Always arguing.

"But I've already told you John, heroes don't exist!"

"Yes they do, you saved me, Mrs. Hudson… And countless other people."

"I merely assisted you two and I was only doing what I can, working on cases."

Constantly.

"God dammit Sherlock! Accept that you are a hero!"

"No I will not John, tell me, is there any scientific proof that there is such a thing as a hero?"

"Well no… But…"

After Sherlock came back, both of the residents of 221B had been tense around each other. It was only just recently that they had even begun speaking to each other and even then it was just a jumble of relentless fighting and keeping the wall up that John had built after Sherlock jumped three years ago.

"Listen- I may be on the side of the angels, but I am not one- that is your job."

"Now I'm the hero, then? I thought you said that they don't exist." Venom leaked through the words.

"Did you hear _anything_ I just said? An _angel, _John- not a hero."

"Well those don't exist either, and if they did, I would be far from one, I killed people Sherlock."

"You were a doctor, John."

"Everyone has bad days, Sherlock." _And I had a lot, _the unspoken words hung in the air, fog swaying above their heads.

"A fallen angel then, but an angel nonetheless."

"Then you are an angel too."

"Don't fool yourself, you're smarter than that John."

"You _will _listen to me when I say that you an angel Sherlock, I needed you back then, before I met you, and after… After… After you jumped. I still do, if that isn't reason enough that you are an angel," _my angel_, "then I don't know what is."

The barricade was beginning to break down.

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Yes it does."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes!"

"If anything, I'm a demon."

"No, no, Sherlock, Moriarty is… Was a demon."

"We are alike."

"You are nothing alike."

"Consulting detective and the consulting criminal… Among other things." Defensive. Almost as if he was trying to convince himself, not John.

"Fine," a huff, "believe in what you want, don't listen to me. I'm leaving, see how you like being left in the dark." John leaves in a rush of masked fury, stomping down the stairs of 221.

"John?" At the sound of Johns voice and the badly concealed anger (The crease in the brow. The forced weight on his right leg [because it was only when John was angered or after a particularly bad dream his limp would come back after Sherlock's return.]. The flash in his eyes.) the defense of Sherlock's words instantly faltered.

In his rush to catch John, Sherlock had deleted the thought that it was raining (his favorite weather, but not today) that he had forgotten his coat.

"John, Wait!" The sound of pleading forced itself through the words even though Sherlock was trying hard to disguise it.

"What, Sherlock?" a clipped murmur was issued as he stopped on the stair, still not looking at Sherlock, instead keeping his gaze low on the city street in front of him.

"I heard you, back at the cemetery, all those years ago," a strangled huff (A disguised sob.) from the man in front of him, "you said you needed me, that you owe me, and I owe you a fall," (A cringe from both of them.) and Sherlock continued "and I fell for you."

For a few too many strangled seconds there was no sound but the pitter patter of rain on streets and roofs.

John turns around slowly, still keeping his eyes anywhere but Sherlock.

"What did you just say?"

Sherlock looked just as flustered as John felt. (Sherlock had never been good with feelings or bothered with things such as _love _so he wasn't quite sure what to do.)

Their eyes met and Sherlock could feel a thrumming in his throat (and was _sure _John could hear it) as he tried to speak again (there was only a few times where Sherlock was good with words, and that was only on cases to get the information he needed.) "I may not be a hero, and I consider myself married to my work, but I believe I have fallen for you."

_Crack. _The barricade.

"I… I love you."

John didn't know who just said that, but Sherlock's lips hadn't moved since he stated (for the second time) that he had fallen for John. It must've been John.

Oh _God. _

He did _not _just say that… Did he?

A confirmation came to him that he _did _just say that when Sherlock's lips twitched up into a hesitant smile.

He stammered, "Uh… Umm.." and stepped forwards -three steps- right in front of Sherlock and tentatively wrapped his arms around the man, and it broke him out of the train of thought when he finally noticed how cold Sherlock was, and the slight tremors coursing through his body.

"Sherlock…..?"

"Hmm..?"

"You didn't grab your jacket… You'll catch a cold."

"Doesn't matter. Keeping warm is boring."

"Let's get you inside, okay? I don't want you to get sick."

Sherlock hesitantly slips his hand into Johns, although he was unsure about the action, he _was_ new at this love thing after all. John accepts it with a slight blush and grasps tighter as if it's a lifeline and in turn, Sherlock does the same.

_Crash, _and the wall came shattering down.


End file.
